


hideout

by youngjo



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cock Piercing, Come Eating, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, just some dumbass boys in love, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24892801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: Changbin and Minho sneak away from filming for some much needed alone time.
Relationships: Lee Minho | Lee Know/Seo Changbin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 135





	hideout

**Author's Note:**

> so how about them leather pants haha,,

They’d been dancing around each other since filming began, the space between them closed by intense staring, soft teasing, and suggestive movements. It was a game at first, both working hard to see who would be the first to break. 

For all his hotshot ramblings, it was ultimately Changbin.

But, really, who could blame him? No one, with or without the leather pants clinging to his thighs and leaving little to the imagination. Minho was an incredibly attractive handsome man, full of charm and charisma and enough sex appeal to turn every head in a crowded room. Despite all of that, only one person was lucky enough to see his eyelids fluttering, head thrown back and lips parted as he gasped for air—and that person was none other than Changbin.

Later, when they were home and showered and tangled together on his bed, Minho would tease him about it. How just a single smirk, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth, broke him.

The only thing that saved Minho from being bent over the kitchen counter and destroyed was the presence of a backup dancer setting up. Instead, Changbin closed the gap between them and took his bicep in a firm grip. Minho’s teasing expression sinking into innocence sealed his fate.

“If anyone asks, we’ll be right back!” He called out to the backup dancer. Changbin didn’t give the poor man a chance to answer and guided Minho to one of the side doors, stepping through it. He kept his grip tight as they walked down one of the banquet hall’s many corridors. Changbin wasn’t really sure where they were going until his eyes landed upon a plaque bearing golden lettering. ‘Storage room.’ Perfect. Lucky for them, it was unlocked. 

He popped open the door and nudged Minho inside, feeling around for a light switch. “You’re an absolute tease,” he grumbled, locating the switch after a few moments blindly smacking his palm against the wall. Dim yellow light flooded the room, illuminating various cleaning supplies and a swathe of chairs carefully arranged before them. 

“What can I say?” Minho murmured in response, reaching over Changbin’s shoulder to slowly swing the door shut. “It’s fun to rile you up … make you all hot and bothered.” His arms slid around Changbin’s lower back, pulling him flush against his body. “I win the bet, so I get to choose.”

“No penetration. We’re technically still working,” Changbin replied, fingers playing along the fabric bunched at Minho’s waist. 

“I have something different in mind.” Minho’s hands slid lower, gliding along the curve of his ass. He too was wearing leather pants, forcing definition into his cheeks that wasn’t normally present. The fabric heightened the feeling, sending a shiver up Changbin’s spine. Minho cupped him then, massaging his ass with firm, gentle movements. “Wanna ride my thigh? I know you’ve been staring at them all day …”

“Fuck yes,” he gasped, leaning up to capture Minho’s lips with his own. They kissed with little care for their makeup, something that was certain to get them into trouble with their stylists. At the moment, they didn’t care, Changbin too busy remapping the inside of Minho’s mouth. 

Minho guided them backwards with careful steps, hands clutching and grasping at every place they could reach. Just enough to rile them up, Changbin reaching between them to palm Minho’s crotch. Despite their desperate touching, they made sure not to mess up their outfits too much. There would be hell to pay if anything ended up torn or ruined. They continued until the back of Minho’s legs knocked into one of the chairs, Changbin using the momentary shift in gravity to push him into it. He straddled Minho’s lap and immediately began kissing along his jaw, Minho teasing his shirt free from the apron tied at his waist. Minho’s warm hands slid along his spine, tracing every curve and ridge.

“You have no idea how bad I wanna rip this shirt off you,” Minho groaned, restraint evident in the way his fingers trembled against him. 

“Once promotions are done, I’ll let you.” Changbin nipped at Minho’s lower lip. “Promise.”

“Might be fun to split open these pants too.”

Changbin laughed softly. “You can do that too, if we don’t accidentally destroy them first.” His hands traced down the length of Minho’s chest, gliding along the clothed curve of his abdominal muscles. “You sure you want me to ride your thigh?”

“I’ve got two hands. Ride my thigh and I’ll jack both of us off. Not rocket science,” Minho teased.

“Yeah, yeah, smart ass.” Even so, Changbin slid back so he could stand and carefully positioned himself above Minho’s thigh. He paused, their eyes meeting as heat flared between them, before Minho patted the expanse of leather. Changbin accepted the invitation and sank down, right knee squeezing alongside Minho’s own thigh upon the chair. One hand gripping the arm of the chair and the other tangling into Minho’s shirt, he finished settling into position. It was uncomfortable given the tightness of his pants but Minho didn’t allow him to stay like that for long, fingers coming down to fight with the zipper and wrangle his cock free.

Minho pulled himself free moments later, Changbin watching as his thighs shook from their position, but damn if he wasn’t turned on. The room felt too hot, his skin crawling with heat, lips parted as he panted softly. Combine that with the realization that someone could find them tangled together at any moment and Changbin was rock-hard and ready to go before Minho ever gave him the go-ahead to move.

Minho freed his own boner and Changbin groaned. He couldn’t tell if he wanted it in his mouth or his ass more but now was not the time for either. His boyfriend had a pretty dick, more than average. He was long, thin, and perfectly curved, to say nothing of the tiny glint of silver at the base of his tip. (They’d had plenty of fun with that too.) But that only seemed fair, given the apparent favoritism when it came to God’s production of Lee Minho.  _ Good thing he was on Changbin’s menu. _

“Can’t wait to milk that dry later,” Changbin groaned, hips twitching against Minho’s thigh.

“Can’t wait for you to do that,” Minho replied, reaching out to fist Changbin’s cock; he could barely fit his hand around the girth of it. “We should try this without your pants next time. Remember when Chan lent me that pair of gloves?” He grinned, wide and toothy. 

Fragments of memories fluttered through his mind, Changbin shaking his head fondly. That had definitely been a time. “Next time, for sure. Hopefully not in a storage closet.” With that said, Changbin repositioned his boot upon the tile and rolled his hips along Minho’s thigh. The glide of leather on leather was smooth and fluid, the thin material allowing him to feel every twitch of Minho’s thigh muscles. His movements forced his cock to drag exquisitely through Minho’s hand, his grip tight enough to apply pressure but not enough to keep Changbin from moving freely. After a few experimental movements, making adjustments to posture and speed, Changbin finally got the hang of it. His eyes focused intently on the way his cock moved through Minho’s fingers. He wasn’t sure what he enjoyed more, the leather gliding along his balls or the way Minho was jacking himself off. 

“Kiss me,” Minho demanded, breathless. Changbin obliged him, the kiss lacking any real force as they nipped and sucked at whatever they could reach. 

Feeling heat start to pool in his abdomen, Changbin pulled back with a moan. “Let me clean it.”

Minho groaned back at him, tightening his grip on his cock until Changbin was forced to stop his movements. He pressed his thumb against Changbin’s slit and gathered some of the pre-come there, smearing it along his shaft, but it still wasn’t enough. “Pardon me,” the other man mumbled, before he spit into his palm and slapped it back around Changbin. 

“That’s hot,” Changbin teased, his words branching off in a hiss as Minho began to move his hand along his length without mercy. They’d been gone a little too long already; they needed to hurry. He untangled his own hand from Minho’s shirt and replaced it atop the one he was using on his own cock, sliding along the soft skin until he could pinch Minho’s tip in his fingers and rub along it hard and fast. 

Surprisingly, Minho came first, crying out so loudly that Changbin was forced to slam their mouths together and swallow his moan. He cupped his hand over Minho’s cock to catch any stray spurts of cum. They couldn’t afford to stain their outfits, especially when they would already need to frantically explain why they’d disappeared. Oh, and their stylists would murder them—twice.

He brought his dirty hand to his lips as Minho continued his movements, tongue running through the warm mess of cum. Minho watched with heavy-lidded eyes, tongue poking from his lips as he fought to catch his breath. Changbin took care in cleaning his hand. He always made a show of it, tracing the length of his hand palm to the tip of his middle finger, before finally sucking on each one for a painfully long amount of time. 

Minho groaned as he did exactly that, sliding his hand along the thigh Changbin had thrust up. He massaged along the leather in careful strokes before he brought his palm down against it hard, the resounding snap echoing through the tiny room. Changbin yelped in surprise, arching into Minho’s hand as he slapped his thigh a second time. Minho giggled deviously, mouthing something that looked vaguely like revenge, before giving the affected area a small squeeze. 

“Do you need permission?” Minho murmured after a moment. “Have a bit of stage fright?” 

“N-no,” Changbin gasped. “Whisper something dirty to me.”

“Tax benefits,” he replied immediately.

Changbin couldn’t help but laugh, even with sweet beading along his brow and the need for release threatening to boil over any moment. “Not that, you fiend.”

Minho giggled quietly before he leaned up, kissing along Changbin’s jaw until he reached his ear. “You know how pretty you look right now, Bin? So desperate and on edge, hot and sweaty, like you’re begging to be bent over and used … Can’t imagine what someone may think, walking in to find you bent over one of these chairs while I fuck you so hard you can’t even see straight.”

_ “Shit,” _ Changbin hissed, but it did the trick. He threw his arm around Minho’s shoulders, rutting up into his hand and lifting himself free from his thigh as he came. Changbin momentarily forgot they were supposed to be keeping their outfits clean, just throwing his head back as Minho nipped at his throat. He sagged against Minho’s body as the tension drained out of him, Minho guiding his other thigh up so they were both in the chair. His arms threaded around Changbin’s waist so he didn’t slip back.

They didn’t speak for a moment, just basking in afterglow as the built up tension of that entire morning was finally sated.

Minho’s hand smoothed over his hair, nice and gentle. “Feel better?”

“Much better.”

“Good, because now we have to try and clean cum off of my shirt,” he murmured.

Changbin reared back, eyes flicking frantically around Minho’s torso before he found the stain. “Ah shit. We’re totally dead.”

“Hey, at least we had fun first!” Minho reminded him, lips quirking into a smile. “It’s on the white part, so we might be able to sneak to the bathroom and clean up a bit first.”

“Let’s hope for that then,” Changbin grumbled, turning his head this way and that as he inspected it.

Minho’s hand cupping his chin stopped him, tilting his head back up so their eyes could meet. “I love you, Bin. You know that, right?”

“Of course I know that,” he replied, his own hand raising to slot over Minho’s, “and I love you just as much.”

His entire face lit up and had they not just finished getting off together, Changbin could’ve dubbed him the most innocent man in the world. 

“As much as we’d like to sleep, we should probably hurry to the bathroom. I bet everyone’s wondering where we’ve run off to at this point,” Changbin said with a sigh, carefully extracting himself from the chair.

“Yeah …” Minho hummed. “Don’t forget, I get to rip your shirt off after promotions.” 

Changbin sent a silent prayer that their recording only lasted another two hours; he didn’t think he could survive any longer than that. 

**Author's Note:**

> .................... apologies for those awful jokes
> 
> find me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) (18+ pls) for more content!
> 
> thank you for reading!!


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